


Waiting by An Open Door

by UnafraidofToil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 15:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnafraidofToil/pseuds/UnafraidofToil
Summary: It has been three years. Three year worth of letters, dreams, and tears since she has seen him. Now a wedding on the cusp of the Second Wizarding War reunites two souls who once connected, never really separated.  This will be a pretty short story long fluff with eventual smut. Maybe 5 chapters or so. Hope you enjoy!





	Waiting by An Open Door

It was at supper she gotten the news that had frozen her to the spot like she had just been on the receiving end of an immobulus charm. She had offered to chop up some vegetables to help prepare for Harry’s birthday meal that evening. Mrs. Weasley had clucked her thanks before pulling out a scroll to finalize the guest list for the next day one final time.  

“Jenkins...Jurnet...Kapmoore...Krum…”

Hermione’s fingers slipped slightly, almost nicking her finger with the knife. She glanced over at Ginny who was watching her from her station at the stove, where she had been stirring a large kettle of something divine smelling. Ginny of course had seen her slip. 

Later that night, Ginny, with a few shots of firewhiskey on her breath (courtesy of Fred and George) asked Hermione if she had known Viktor was coming to the wedding the next day. Hermione, glad for the dimness of the room that hid her flushing face simply said “No”. 

Ginny closed her eyes and then told Hermione how she had kissed Harry that morning before anyone else gave him a present. She raised one hand to her lips as if she was still feeling the kiss. 

“Ron went mental of course...as he does whenever anyone tries to get a snog in.” she murmured before falling asleep. “And I don’t think he knows Viktor will be here either. So that’s something to look forward too…”

 

***

 

It now was nearing 2 AM and Hermione lay awake on her camp bed in Ginny’s room. She sat up slowly so as not to stir the redhead sleeping soundly, one arm curled under her pillow, hugging it closely to her. Hermione considered her for a moment. Although Ginny slept peacefully now, her face smooth and serene, Hermione could still see it as it had been early that summer when Harry had broken things off. 

 

Ginny, a fiery red beacon of self confidence and caster of the most potent Bat-Bogey Hex had sobbed in Hermione’s arms when she reached the girls dormitory that afternoon  after Dumbledore’s funeral. They had one single night left in the castle before the Hogwarts Express would bring them back to the Muggle world. 

“He wants to protect me” she had sobbed. “But I don’t want to be protected. I want to fight with him. Whatever he’s doing...whatever is coming…” Hermione almost told her then...what she, and Harry and Ron were planning. Ginny loved them all.  Hermione was her best friend. Ron was her brother, and Harry…

Ginny’s voice had trembled into a whisper as she wished she had a pensieve so she could take all the memories of the times they had made love in secret corners of Hogwarts and store them anywhere but in the forefront of her mind. And Hermione had nodded, pretending to be understanding but ignorant of such things. As far as Ginny knew she had simply allowed Viktor Krum to kiss her on the dance floor. Hermionie said nothing of the night that she only allowed herself to think of when she was alone in her bed or sometimes the bathtub. 

The memory of that night made Hermione ache with longing. She understood more than Ginny knew what it was like to let go of such memories. She so wished to tell Ginny something to end her pain or even ease her worry about the three people she loved most. But her promise to Dumbledore was one she could not bring herself to break. All Hermione could do was pull Ginny close and run her hand down her back as her own mother had once done for her. Before whisking off to pack, swallowing her fear that this might be her very last night in the castle...perhaps forever if they died in pursuit of the horrific horcruxes.

 

Hermione silently slipped on her shoes, and pulled a sweater from an odd pile (a Christmas present for Ginny made by Mrs. Weasley) over her pajama bottoms and slid soundlessly from Ginny’s bedroom, grabbing a beaded handbag from the dressing table. As if (and more likely than not) by magic, Crookshanks appeared beside the door and looked up at Hermione as if awaiting instruction. 

“Let’s go somewhere quite outside, yes?” Hermione whispered to the squat cat. Crookshanks blinked and turned and began a slow saunter down the staircase. Following his signals of stopping and going, Hermione was able to sneak past 4 floors worth of Weasleys’,  Delacours’, and Potters’ without a single person stirring. 

“And Ron says you’re useless.” Hermione whispered fondly as she tossed a dry treat from somewhere within the beaded bag into the air. Crookshanks caught it in one swift movement and then bounded off with a small chirp, back to the garden to perhaps stir up some trouble with the gnomes. For now she would let him. Hermione looked up at the moon, so bright it guided her to a clearing somewhere among the tall grass that hid the magical home. The July night was warm and still. Now and then a gentle breeze would blow through the field she sat in, filling the air with what sounded like a million whispers for a moment before fading back to silence. Hermione let out a long slow breath before muttering a spell to create a small flame, which she shrunk to the size of a candle before closing it into a jar pulled from the bag. 

Hermione pulled out a list and looked it over. She had technically completed packing the books a few nights ago, but had since thought of a good reason for a few more to be crammed in. She needed to add their names to the inventory. She needed something to distract herself, so she might as well check over things one more time.

As she burrowed her hand deep into the bag for a quill, Hermione felt a small box fall onto her fingers. She furrowed her brow for a moment before pulling it out. Her stomach looped around slightly. It was a small chocolate sampler box, a once a year treat her dentist parents would buy each Christmas. As a child, Hermione had loved the yellow color of the sturdy yellow box and at once began to used to to keep some secret things. She pulled it out and lifted the lid. A picture of her mother and father from when they had first met lay on the top of the pile. Here, they were young and in love and childless. Hermione thought painfully of how, with just a wave of her wand she had all but restored them to how they had been when this photo was taken. Once their memories wiped, Hermione was left to take only what mementos she could carry before leaving behind the home she had known since childhood, perhaps forever. 

Beneath the photo of her parents was the stack of letters bound together with a red ribbon. Hermione lifted them out and pulled one out of the bundle. 

She flipped open the parchment and let her eyes fall over a few single lines from the middle:

 

_ “Last night was Christmas and once all was quiet all I could do was sit and remember the smell of your hair when you rested your head on my shoulder as we danced at the Yule ball one year ago. I remember the way your lips felt and how your fingers felt when you ran them through my hair as I kissed you. You were so beautiful. I think I knew then….” _

 

Hermione stopped reading, her throat tight. She picked up another letter, penned by the same man, this one from more recently, the summer before leaving for Hogwarts that past September.

 

_ “Hermione. I received your owl last week and was so happy to. Through your words I could feel some of your anxiety. Please know that you can trust me as you always have been able to. I will not say again the words that caused you such distress. But, my sweet Hermione, I worry for you. The rumors of what lies in wait in England has reached me here. I know you are still so close with Harry Potter and with Mr Weasley. I know you will do what is right, no matter the cost. It is one of things I most admire of you. Just please be safe, write again soon. Deeply yours forever, Viktor.” _

Hermione was crying. She had not realized it until she blinked and felt the tears pooled in her eyes. She held the letter to her chest. She breathed slowly and allowed herself to silently cry for the first time in a while. She felt her lips with her fingers. She remembered that night that had been filled with his kisses. How she had pulled him so tightly to herself as if she was afraid he would at any moment vanish. But she had been prepared to never see him again. He was an untouchable memory. He was in Bulgaria and she had a mission here. Besides...Ron was here. Right? She would see Viktor, and it would be a wonderful reunion. 

But, all Hermione could imagine was the moment where she would have to say “Goodbye” to him once more, this time, her fate less sure and a fresh wave of tears crested and poured down her cheeks. 

  
  



End file.
